Acceptable Suicides
by elphabah
Summary: MelloMatt sometimes there are things that must remain unspoken, less they break our fragile friendship.


**Acceptable Suicides**

**BY ELPHABAH**

"I can't let you do this, M."

Neither of the two young men could have imagined the scene unrolling before them now had it not actually occured. After all, their relationship was based on mutual indifference. The years they had spent together had not brought them any closer as outsiders might have concluded. It was the only way the two could achieve their goals, teetering on the brink of danger with every rapid move. If either admitted to the feelings that brewed inside their hearts it would stage a gaping flaw in their partnership. A loss of focus. The presence of concern, of _love_, would be devastating to all they worked towards. Enemies would discover leverage they could use, bargaining chips in the form of a person. A very special person.

Which is why Mello ignored the words that spilled from his comrade's lips. He would be deaf to the sound of the syllables swirling in the air. Matt's voice, he blocked it out. Intently, he removed his black tee-shirt and replaced it with a fresh one. It took every fiber of his determination not meet Matt's gaze as he diliberately tugged his fingers into a pair of black leather gloves, fastening the clasp on his crucifix necklace. The gold chain roped around his throat, snug against the definition of his collar bone.

He was dressed in black.

Dressed for a funeral.

When Mello turned to leave he found the bedroom door blocked. By then, he could not avoid Matt's gaze. There was an usual darkness in his expression; Mello was startled enough to give pause. If this had been any other ocassion, he would have simply shoved Matt aside.

At any rate, in a moment he was going to do just that.

Matt was not wearing his signature welding goggles; instead Mello could see an unaccustomed venomous rage pooling from the revealed emerald eyes. The geeky-hacker guarded the door with his fists coiled. Was he willing to strike? Mello wondered to himself with passing amusement. He was almost tempted to bait Matt just to see what would happen.

"Out of my way, Matt," Mello said with uncharacteristic patience.

"No," the other young man answered firmly.

Mello took a single step forward, black boots rattling with their metal straps. Beads shaped in the design of screaming skulls strung along his shoe laces. Everywhere he went, death was going to follow. He clenched his teeth, baring an unfriendly smile.

"Get out of my way," Mello repeated, now lowering his voice to a deadly growl.

"No _Mihael_," Matt barked back.

"I'm warning you."

"Go fuck yourself, I am not going to move," Matt retaliated in turn, his icey tone giving way to a explosive anger most often seen in Mello---not him. "I won't let you commit suicide."

The stand-off ended in a flash. Mello lurched, tackling Matt. Both young men hit the ground with a violent thud and rolled. Mello, experienced in the art of brawling, was the first to lay a punch. It didn't faze Matt until after a couple more knocks upside the head. He was weaker than Mello but he put up a fight, his frustration threading each vicious assault. If he could stop him, draw enough blood, then the pain would be worth it.

It would be worth it just to keep Mello from walking away.

Hours lapsed, several lamps laying broken as Mello's bedroom became a battlefield, before there was a final lull in the fight. Matt heaved with each inhale, aching in a puddle of blood. Mello had taken refuge in the far corner, collecting himself.

If either admitted to the feelings that they had.

It would be dangerous.

Mello could stand committing suicide. The chill of fear could be abated with the fire of his conviction. But if either admitted to the feelings that they had. . .If Mello said the words that were lodged in his mouth, ideas he had forsaken himself from verbalizing.

Mello could not bare the act of homicide of his only friend.

The only one he loved.

With effort, Mello rose to his feet and stumbled to where Matt laid on the brink of unconsciousness. Matt glanced at him through half-open eyes, unable to speak from the effort it took just to breathe.

"This was really stupid,"he said, lips bruised and bleeding. Mello smeared a trail of red on his arm as he bent so close his hair tickled Matt's forehead. It was the closest he would come to apologizing.

Matt closed his eyes, knowing he had lost. If he hadn't shown his cards, if only he hadn't revealed the one thing he found worth fighting for. Mello would not be around when he woke up. He strained to stay above oblivion but it was with fading awareness he could hear the final words Mello said before he left him---not for good, never for good, but for a very long time: _I'll come back someday when it all fucking ends. This thing with Near, this hunt for Kira. There are bets I need to settle, L's murder can't go unpunished. But Matt, I'll come back someday. _

_When we can afford to show our weaknesses. _

_Then you'll understand why I can't tell you the things I've been wanting to say all goddamn long. _

_How my weakness is fatal. For the both of us._

_  
But mostly you._

**Author's Note **I wrote this piece several months ago and left it to metaphorically collect dust on my hard-drive. It was only this last week that I sorted through files of old and half-finished stories and came across _Acceptable Suicides _with slightly renewed interestBy now I have forgotten exactly why I initially did not upload the story but I do believe that it had something to do with the intensity of it all. I still find this piece to be very. . ._raw _but I hope you enjoyed it none-the-less.


End file.
